


грех

by UltimateFangirl125



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Anyway yeah, ENJOY IT, M/M, hell even if i do like this poem it is kinda shitty, i never write poems and in the rare case i do i rarely like them, i suck at writing poems tbh, poem about Raikov because he is my son and he makes me sad, so this one is a rarity, this is a very rare thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 19:49:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5598640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateFangirl125/pseuds/UltimateFangirl125
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A poem about Raikov and his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	грех

**Author's Note:**

> The title translates to "sin" in Russian if you were wondering. I'm unoriginal, I know.

The little boy kneels  
Only 6 years old  
Brothers on either side  
Their dark hair  
And olive skin  
A stark contrast to him  
With flaxen hair  
Skin like milk and honey  
Eyes blue as sapphires

A piece of bread  
Small  
Is placed into his hands  
Also small  
He eats it, savoring the softness  
And his presented with a goblet of wine  
The rim slips past his soft pink lips  
The liquid filling his mouth  
A drop dribbles down from the corner of his lips  
Onto his pants

 

The wine burns as it goes down  
But it is a good burn  
The priest places a hand on the boy’s head  
Stroking soft, gentle curls  
And the boy’s heart flutters  
At the feeling of the attentions  
Of an older man being on him

Years pass  
He is 10 now  
First position  
Tights stretch over his legs  
Second position  
They squeeze him gently  
Third position  
“An old friend of ours: Mr. Volgin.”  
Fourth position  
His eyes follow the boy  
Fifth position  
Applause and the grand finale

 

Two more years  
The lead part in the ballet  
Hours getting his makeup done  
Hours of practice  
And that night is magical  
Memories of a dressing room  
Of a necklace  
Of warmth, indescribable warmth  
And pain  
And then bliss  
A secret kept  
And something lost

He is 15 now  
His parents gone  
Brothers the only ones left  
Barely able to care for him  
An offer  
From an old family friend  
With ulterior motives  
A long train ride  
A case of mistaken identity

 

And a word  
Spoken by soft pink lips  
Quietly  
“Daddy”  
And it should not affect either of them  
But it does  
Deliciously  
Sinfully

Two years of bliss  
Of protection  
Of decadence and finery  
Of pain and pleasure  
Heat  
The crack of lightning  
And thunder

*********

First position  
Down on his knees like he used to pray at church  
Second position  
Bound and helpless, reminding him of the ribbons on his toe shoes  
Third position  
Darkness and coldness, a charlatan having robbed him of his identity  
Fourth position  
Relaxed, laying down, gentle warmth and pleasure engulfing him  
Fifth position  
On his knees, begging, pleading for his lover to wake up  
Screaming to the sky  
To a cruel god  
Vowing to never get on his knees and pray  
Again


End file.
